


There Is No If

by Into_Evernight



Category: AFI
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Into_Evernight/pseuds/Into_Evernight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of being in an unspoken relationship, Jade starts to slip away without a word. With the release and upcoming promotion of Sing the Sorrow, Davey soon comes to find why. [Secret Santa for Mel/artemis]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on AFIslash on 12/24/2011.
> 
> Story Notes: I wrote this for Mel, and the prompts were:
> 
> Prompt one: something that involves this performance. Watch it until the end and you know why!!!!! If you need more inspiration, watch The Leaving Song Pt II from that performance (the aggressiveness is nearly palpable)  
> Prompt two: Master & Servant (don't judge me!)  
> Prompt three: Christmas fair
> 
> Author's Chapter Notes: Had to break it up into two chapters. It was too long. :L
> 
> Disclaimer: These are mere characters based on the members of AFI (not the real members, duh). I do not own; I do not make money. No disrespect, harm, or libel is intended; this never ever happened (and never will) as this is 100 percent fictitious.

In all the years that Jade and Davey had shared this... _thing_ , they'd never once talked about it. Then again, they hadn't had any reason to—they didn't even think about it. It just _was_ , like everything else in their lives. And over the years, this _thing_ —whatever it was—had become such a deeply integrated part of their lives that it was weird when other people thought it was weird, when they heard the whispered rumors of the things they might do behind closed doors with each other as though it were some sort of dirty secret. The reality of their unconventional whatever-this-was didn't strike Davey as odd, not really, because he enjoyed Jade just as much as Jade enjoyed him.

Days and seasons had passed, the same endless loop of time stretching on as their lives unraveled and came together, over and over. They had their spats, but it was never anything too serious—at least, Davey hadn't thought it was. But how could he know? They didn't mention their...relationship, was it? It had to have been what it was because they loved and touched and fucked and acknowledged it all. Special gifts, the sorts that lovers would give, were exchanged on birthdays and Santa Day and Valentine's Day. So this _thing_ that had grown out of nothing and nowhere, that had been nourished by loving hands and breathless words in the darkest hours of the night, had been something they'd fallen and settled into, something comfortable and secure and cozy. It was without words that they had decided to be exclusive, just sort of easing into it with that unspoken mutual glance that people who have known each other for a long time give each other. And nothing was wrong...or it shouldn't have been. It couldn't have been. Until the day that Jade turned away.

–

_December 12, 2002_

"Wow, this place sure is packed, huh?" Davey asked as he walked down the crowded Berkeley street, arm in arm with Jade. He'd grabbed onto his arm automatically as soon as they'd gotten out of the car, partially out of habit and partially out of the need to touch him due to the cold. "Who's fuckin' idea was it to have a Christmas fair outside anyway?" he continued, kind of half-amused and half-complaining. "It's fuckin' cold."

Jade didn't answer him right away; he was looking in the other direction at some glitzy display of sparkling ornaments and lights. Davey didn't blame him—it was blinding. Finally, he tore his attention from it and barely glanced at Davey, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a partial smile. "Heh, yeah. It is kind of ridiculous." He shifted his arm, the one Davey was holding against his beating heart, and the hold grew a little loose. Davey had noticed he'd been doing things like that lately, but chalked it up to the fact they were busy preparing for their new album. Everyone was exhausted, and Jade probably just needed more space. That was just the way he was. He could recall one time during the recording of Black Sails that Jade had hidden away in the hotel bathtub and no one had known where he was for twenty minutes. He grinned a bit at the memory, shaking his head.

Now Jade had fallen silent again, and he was staring straight ahead—not unusual for him. A sudden gust of wind sent a sharp chill up and down Davey's spine, and he pressed closer to Jade's side for warmth, noticing immediately how he flinched and drew back. He brought nearly black eyes up to Jade's too-large ones. "Cramping your space?" he asked sort of teasingly, an undertone of a laugh to his words. He pressed his lips tightly together to try to mask the smile, but it spread across his face anyway, meeting his shining eyes.

Jade's pace slowed considerably, and he grinned awkwardly, forcing his eyes away from Davey's intense gaze. There was something about that grin, the way it was too tight and almost feral, almost more like desperation or masked misery. That was the first time Davey felt a stab of concern in his heart. He readjusted his grip on Jade's arm, his smile wavering. Jade wasn't saying anything to that, so he figured that must be the case. But if so... "Why don't you just tell me you want some space? It's not going to hurt my feelings," he assured him, releasing his arm. The tension didn't leave Jade's body, though, but at least he looked at him this time. Davey frowned a bit in thought, continuing, "If I make you uncomfortable, at any time, you should tell me. Honestly. I don't know what you're thinking, but—"

Shaking his head, Jade said, "Nah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." He jammed his hands in his pockets, a slight shiver wracking his body as well; Davey saw it, but for some reason, he didn't think it was from the cold.

At this point, he found his faith and confidence shaken, off balance. Glancing from a stand back to Jade, lips slightly pursed, he hesitated. Then: "Okay." He'd just take Jade's word for it. But his stomach was twisting and flip-flopping, the acid churning. The feeling crept through his body, like inky, snaking vines winding around his torso, his arms, his legs. And now he just felt... _weird_.

Trying to blow it off and recover, he adjusted the strap of his bag, then crossed his arms over his chest. "So," he said slowly, just as slowly as they were walking. His eyes dropped to their feet, walking side by side and matching strides, as nothing but silence answered the dead weight of his voice. He flicked a glance up at Jade, who was watching their feet as well. Now that he thought about it, Jade had been awfully quiet when he'd picked him up earlier. He just hadn't noticed it because that half-broken radio in Jade's shitty car kept filling the holes in conversation with music, with disembodied voices, with the occasional static of a lost signal. He bit down on his lip, looking around until his eye caught a small makeshift cafe set up amongst the booths. "Do you want something to drink? I'm cold." He jerked his thumb towards it with a little smile, a peace offering. "My treat." He felt almost like he was desperately scraping together something, anything, to say to get Jade to stop being this way. Maybe something bad had happened and he wasn't able to talk about it yet. He'd just try to cheer him up, get it out of him—if he wanted to talk.

Shrugging, Jade kicked at a rock. "Yeah, I guess."

Davey looked at him for a moment, watching him—the way his shoulders were steeply sloped, the way he held himself sort of hunched over, like a dog that was afraid of being attacked. He got that same rocky-sick feeling in the pit of his stomach again. "What do you want?" he prodded, reaching in his bag for his wallet.

Again, Jade shrugged, expression never changing. "Hot chocolate's fine."

Frowning again, Davey just nodded. "Okay, wait here." He went to get in line, occasionally glancing back at Jade, at the way he leaned against the side of a booth and just kind of glanced around with this _look_ on his face. Like he was lost or helpless or didn't know where he was or what to do. They didn't always talk about what they were thinking or feeling—often enough, they could read each other—but this time, he wasn't sure what it meant. Or maybe he was, and he was blocking it out. That stomach feeling...that wasn't a good sign.

Pushing it back, he greeted the vendor and placed their orders—hot chocolate for Jade and hot tea for him. He pulled out a few faded, dog-eared dollar bills from his wallet, scraped together some change, then took his receipt and purchases and wandered back over to Jade. The cups he held were scalding hot even through the quilted cardboard holders, but it felt good against his cold hands. He offered Jade's cup to him, only to be met with a kind of sour flash of dark eyes meeting dark eyes. It took his breath away. He'd seen that look on Jade's face before but never directed at him.

As they wandered back into the crowd, Davey took a sip of his tea only to recoil when it singed his tongue. For now, he just held it in both stiff, shaking hands. The silence was closing in on him to the point his chest hurt, and he finally decided he couldn't deal with this anymore. "Okay, what's wrong?" he asked, turning to look at Jade with a furrowed brow, with eyes that were too intense.

This was a last resort question. And Jade usually answered it in a no-nonsense manner. But this time, he just shrugged and held his cup close to his chest. "It's no big deal. Don't worry about it." He was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at a table that had colorful scented candles spread out over it. He turned his back as he picked one up to smell it. Davey felt his heart jump.

For a brief moment, his hand fluttered nervously in the air, this uncertain thing. Then he overcame it with boldness, laying it gingerly on the arch of Jade's back, this tender, soft touch. He couldn't feel Jade's warmth through the thickness of his coat, through the thickness of the layers that separated them. "I'm concerned that you might be—"

Before Davey could finish, Jade had put the candle back on the table and turned to face him, kind of rolling his eyes as he did so. "I don't want to talk about it, Dave. Just please stop..." Here, he lowered his voice, face hovering close to Davey's until he could feel the moist, heated breaths on his face. "Please stop touching me like that in public."

"Ironic, considering you just..." Davey trailed off as Jade had already pulled back, going down to the next booth. Slowly, he trailed behind him, his heart beginning to rabbit uncomfortably in his chest. He'd never felt like that before, not over what they had. "I don't know what I've done to anger you," he said quietly, standing close enough to Jade so he'd be the only one to hear him. "But whatever I've done, please tell me so I can make it up to you. You know I hate it when you're mad at me."

A long, heavy sigh left Jade's body; Davey could almost hear his lungs collapsing from it. "You haven't done anything. I just don't feel good."

The more Jade pulled away, sequestered his feelings away in some dark place that Davey couldn't follow, the more it made him ache so powerfully that he could barely breathe. Everything that Jade felt affected him, and everything Jade felt, he usually shared. But right now, that connection was fading in and out, like that goddamn dying radio. And, ironically, all Davey wanted to do was grab onto him and hold him though it would only make him angrier. So he took the hint. "Okay." He was quiet for a moment, just giving Jade some room to breathe. He'd tell him later, he assured himself. He always did. But this...this wasn't normal. Not for them. And maybe Jade had been a little distant lately, but it had to be internal problems, or something that wasn't him. He'd thought that, at least, but he wasn't so sure anymore.

He'd been about to ask Jade if he wanted to go home, if maybe he was starting to get sick and would rather be somewhere else. But he stopped himself when he saw that Jade seemed to be doing just fine—at least physically. Adjusting the strap of his bag, he followed him down a side street, where a vendor was selling little toy trains. He'd set up a display to resemble a small, old time town—perhaps from the 40's or 50's, Davey mused as he looked at it. Jade didn't seem interested; he kept walking even when Davey stopped to look and strike up a conversation with the elderly man behind the counter. If Jade wanted to be this way, so be it. He'd have fun regardless.

It was only after Davey had finished talking to the man and had bought one of the trains for his stepfather that he looked up and realized that Jade was nowhere to be found. His stomach sank at the thought that he'd just left him there; usually, he stood around no matter how bored he was. And, glancing at his cell phone, he confirmed that he hadn't been talking that long. Maybe ten minutes or so at the most. Slowly, he wandered out of the side street and back onto the main road, glancing up and down it to see if Jade was anywhere in sight. The crowds were thick, and now that it was getting kind of dark, it was hard to see even with all the string lights stretching along the roads and illuminating them in a warm, yellow glow. Worried, vaguely wondering if Jade had ditched him because he was pissed off, he slipped through the crowd, murmuring apologies as he bumped into people.

He knew Jade better than that. He'd never abandon him, though he had to admit he hadn't been acting right. And he was starting to get nervous, his stomach coiling up in what he imagined to be a knotted rope, until he spotted him. He was at a confectionery stand, talking with two of the girls who worked there. Coming closer, Davey could see them joking around and laughing a little—all traces of the bitterness had dissipated. Confused, he stopped just to watch for a moment as Jade bought some treats, complimented them on the large gingerbread house to the side of the stand. He finished his transaction and turned around, his smile fading just slightly around the edges as he saw Davey. And this look that seemed almost like guilt flashed through his eyes.

"You could've told me where you were going," Davey said, and he was surprised at how crisply his words were rounded, feeling like the white-smoke exhalations he breathed.

Jade slid his bag on his wrist, shifting his drink cup to his other hand. "I was going to come right back."

Something about his words sounded uncertain; it didn't assure Davey in the least. Still looking a little wary, Davey replied, "Fine." He turned his head, looking in the other direction. He had that awful, cold sinking feeling inside him right now.

Jade stepped closer, eyes softened in repentance. "Hey." Davey flicked his gaze over to him, flinching a little as he slid his arm through his, holding it just like before. "I'm sorry. I've just got stuff on my mind tonight." He paused, curling his fingers around Davey's arm and giving it a little squeeze, giving him a weak, tight smile. "Are we cool?"

A sigh. Davey didn't want to start a fight. "Of course." He linked arms with Jade, and walked with him through the crowd, trying to push it from his mind as Jade started pointing out various things to him, suddenly turning around one-eighty degrees. And, truth be told, he was baffled by his behavior. It didn't make any sense... Nevertheless, he tried to swallow back that feeling of unrest, that slight nausea that tinged the bottom of his stomach. That was difficult when Jade's jokes felt flat and forced. There was this awful tension between them, buzzing and singing in the air, and he didn't know where it'd come from.

–

_March 1, 2003_

It was the first time they'd had sex in months. Davey had conjured up every excuse in the book to explain why Jade didn't want him—he was sick, he had a headache, he was too tired, they were too busy. After all, Jade was still coming to see him—though that might've been because of the album or something. Their 'anniversary' dinner had been postponed several times, and when they finally had sat down to it, it felt lonely, this empty shell of a _thing_ hanging over them and neither of them willing to admit it. Davey had fixed the table up like he would've on the Valentine's day they hadn't had; Jade had called to tell Davey he didn't feel well back then, canceling all their plans. But it wasn't a physical ailment Davey had heard in his voice, rather, a sick sort of sadness to his words. He knew it was because Jade was alone and hurting but would rather have it that way for some reason. He'd rather them be worlds apart. There was no more bullshitting. Davey had known it the second they'd sat down to the candle-lit dinner and barely touched it, barely said a word—it was over.

The realization had brought tears to his eyes, the candlelight flickering and all at once blurring into a miserable, dim orange glow. He'd stared at it, at the wax running down as they melted, the food on his plate growing cold. And just past that, he'd seen Jade's out of focus image, heard him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He'd cleared his throat, and put his hand on Davey's. Vaguely, he'd heard him saying something, something awkward and sheepish and pseudo-comforting. Asking him about his day, asking him if he wanted to talk about something. But it was too late, and there came a veritable wetness trickling down Davey's cheek, and he'd felt like he was melting away.

He'd shaken his head, trying to assure him—and himself—that he was fine. But he'd felt lightheaded, like he might stop breathing at any moment. No wonder Jade had been so distant, feeling so poorly. Something was missing, and they hadn't talking about it because they _couldn't_. And, just like this _thing_ had started, it was burning out and dying down. Not with a word or a breath or a whisper, but with deafening, horrible silence.

And now... There was the sound of a chair scraping rudely against the floor. Jade was coming around the table and taking his hands, his own touch kind but clammy, shaky. He pulled Davey to his feet and folded him into his pale, skinny arms, just like he always had when they were younger. Just like he always had when they were together. When they were in love. And Davey was still in love. So much so that his heart beat for Jade and he wished he'd told him more often. Told him with each breath he took, with each touch and glance. It was all for him—couldn't he see that? And without him...he couldn't live. He was nothing. And he was breaking to pieces, his heart floundering uselessly in his chest until it felt like it'd stopped, the blood running cold and stagnant in collapsing veins.

But then Jade was pressing a warm, wet kiss to his forehead, hands running up and down his spine. He didn't say it, but his eyes did—they pleaded. Davey didn't need to ask him what he wanted; he knew. And it was terrifying and disorienting to realize the dynamic had shifted like this—no words, no explosions, no nothing. Nothing except for a broken heart and a relationship that hadn't really been a relationship after all. They were nothing. And they were everything.

The trip down the hall to Davey's bedroom seemed slower than usual. It felt like forever, like each second was ticking by unbearably slow. Clothes were discarded in the hallway, and the whole time, the waves crashed with fire, sorrow with indignation. It couldn't go out like this. It couldn't. Clenching his teeth, Davey dragged his fingertips down Jade's now bare stomach, to the hem of his jeans. He had to keep him; he wouldn't let it go just like this. Blinking rapidly against the moisture in his eyes, he lowered his head to watch what he was doing, watch his fingers nimbly undo Jade's belt buckle until he heard it clink. His entire body was trembling now, and Jade's name passed through his lips in a breathy wisp. It was swallowed by the softness of a mouth engulfing his own in wet heat, and he returned the kiss hungrily, fingers tracing along the top of Jade's boxers.

They stumbled backwards into the bedroom, pants coming down around ankles, kicked off wherever they wanted to land. The first thing Davey felt after that was the force of being shoved down to the mattress, pressed down by bony knees and big hands. He flicked a wet gaze up to look at Jade, to find his eyes wide and his mouth pulled out in tight lines, crooked teeth showing from behind full lips. The thought of never seeing him like this again, of never being able to kiss those lips again, sent a shock through his entire body. And all he could ask was, _why_.

And Jade said nothing. Nothing at all. He just shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed moisture. He didn't say anything until he'd forced Davey over onto his stomach, until he'd finished lubing him up with rough fingers. And after he'd penetrated him and was tugging his hair back, biting down painfully on his neck, it came out in a broken pant of a voice. Those three words that made Davey's heart shatter completely.

_I'm so sorry._


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These are mere characters based on the members of AFI (not the real members, duh). I do not own; I do not make money. No disrespect, harm, or libel is intended; this never ever happened (and never will) as this is 100 percent fictitious.

_March 21, 2003_

Funny how a few weeks could feel like a lifetime, Davey inwardly mused. He was sitting backstage waiting to go on for a short promotional show, and the night that he and Jade had last nurtured their dying thing felt like an eternity ago. Not even the release of Sing the Sorrow had made as much of an impact with him as it should've; it was overshadowed by the haunting emptiness he found himself left with. And with each night that'd passed since, he'd lain in bed and asked himself _why_. Asked himself what he'd done wrong. He went through it over and over in his head, picking it apart as a clinical dissection. At least, he tried to separate himself from it enough to understand what was going on. But he just couldn't.

As far as he could tell, he'd never done anything to hurt Jade. They'd had fights, but they'd always agreed to disagree when they couldn't work it out or come to a compromise. They'd had an active sex life, had an equal amount of time with friends and family and with each other. Everything, as far as he could tell, had been balanced. It had been the perfect recipe for what should've been a successful relationship. Love, respect, communication, affection. What was he missing? There had to be a reason.

Picking himself up out of the chair, he wandered past the mirror, glancing at his ashen reflection. He looked gaunt, almost sick. He felt like he hadn't slept in months; the days and nights just blended together. Shaking his head, he turned to go out the door and into the hall. He needed something cold to drink, something to help ease his stomach. And just as he was going down the hall, he found himself stopping at Jade's door. It was cracked, and there was the blue-white glow of fluorescent light spilling out from inside. He stood there for a long moment, throat closed up and heart aching because all he wanted to do was see him, talk to him and try to work this out. He almost pushed the door the rest of the way open but only got it a little wider when he caught sight of Jade's reflection in the mirror, and his heart dropped right down to his shoes. He wasn't alone.

They were huddled on the couch against the wall, as though trying to hide away, maybe even into each other. Jade looked smaller curled up like that, almost child-like with the way he was clinging to Adam. And at first, Davey thought he might be upset or crying and he'd walked in on something extremely personal. But then he saw how Adam's hands wandered over Jade's back, this gentle, caressing gesture. He saw the softness in his eyes when he turned his head down to murmur something—something that Davey couldn't quite catch—in Jade's ear. In response, Jade lowered his head and nuzzled against Adam's shirt, this affectionate half-smile tugging his lips. And everything made sense now. Jade's distance. Jade's coldness. Jade's _apology_.

It hit him so hard at once. Slowly, he backed away from the door. For a few short seconds, he just stood there, stunned. His first thought was that he needed to go back to his dressing room and put himself together, maybe hide for a bit. But then another wave passed over him and this one was hotter, made his blood rush and his head dizzy from the adrenaline. How could Jade? So soon after their dissolution? With a band mate? And then another sickening thought filled his skull, pounding like the blood in his ears. There was a chance this wasn't so soon after all. That Jade had been carrying this on for some time—the whole time that the thing he and Davey had was languishing. Horrified, he stepped back again, turning around and wandering down the hall like a ghost.

_Fuck him_ , he thought bitterly, shoving open the door of the break room. Smith and a few of the roadies were in there already, sitting on couches and drinking beers. They merely glanced up at him as he stormed in to grab a bottle of water, privy to his moods. Smith, however, was a little keener when it came to him. And as he dug around the ice box for a bottled water, Smith got up and went over to him. He kept his hands to himself but Davey could tell he wanted to touch him.

"Everything cool?" he asked, trying to mask his worry with an air of nonchalance. It wasn't working out for him too well. Instead, he just seemed awkward. Just like his brother, Davey thought with a sickening double punch hitting him in the stomach.

Before he answered, he unscrewed the cap of his water and took a long drink, then brought it down and wiped his mouth. "Yeah, fuckin' fantastic," he snapped before he could stop himself. Almost instantly, he regretted it, and he looked down and away.

Smith got this look on his face—not the kind when someone was hurt, but the kind of look one gives a _child_ when he acts out. "C'mon, man. Don't be like that. I'm just asking you a question."

Keeping his eyes down, Davey sipped at his water, the pressure building up in his head and behind his eyes. His throat felt too tight, and he just shook his head, turning away. "Well, if you really must know, then no, it's not okay." His voice sounded far away.

There was a brief pause, and he both heard and felt Smith coming closer. Instinctively, he stiffened. "What's wrong?"

Davey finally looked up at Smith's concerned eyes. Shaking his head, he murmured, "I don't think I can..." He stopped, swallowing hard and taking a breath, composing himself before he lost it. Shakily, he continued, "I don't think I can talk about it right now. I will be all right." A forced smile; Smith just kind of looked at him, unconvinced.

"Goddammit, Dave." Smith sighed raggedly and clutched his beer bottle tighter, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "Did something happen? Because you should probably tell me. You guys go on in half an hour and I don't want you to throw a fit on stage."

"It's personal," Davey replied crisply, licking his lips. His eyes switched from Smith's to the doorway. Finally, he pulled back from him before he could interrogate him any more. "Look, I'll be fine. Just leave me alone for a while, please."

Shrugging it off—though he was obviously still concerned—Smith said, "Fine. But let me know if you need anything." He turned to slip between the couch arm rest and a chair so he could sit down again, watching as Davey left the room.

The hell if Davey was going to tell Smith—even if he did have good intentions. He wasn't going to speak to anyone after that, not even Hunter. He couldn't believe that Jade would go behind his back, that he wouldn't even fucking tell him there was someone else. Of course it would hurt, but they were supposed to be honest with each other, weren't they? And if he was really that dissatisfied, he thought bitterly, then they could just have an open fucking relationship.

But Jade...Jade had fallen out of love with him. It hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach and he sucked in another sharp breath. He still cared about him—that much was sure—but he'd resented the touches. He hadn't wanted them anymore. And the only reason he'd slept with him at all had been for closure. Maybe it was driven by guilt. Well, Davey didn't need his fucking _sympathy_. And he didn't appreciate it either. He sank down into his chair, hiding behind the door in his dressing room; that was the only thing between him and Jade, but it already felt like miles and miles of separation, separation that was too much and too fucking abysmal.

Show time came and he was still riled up. He met the others in the hallway as the announcer started the introduction. His eyes flicked from Jade to Adam to Hunter, looking at them but not once meeting their gazes. He only noticed out of the corner of his eye how Jade shifted uncomfortably, refused to look at him. He could tell he was pretending to be focused, to be unbothered, but he saw his fingers twitching over his guitar in that anxious way he did whenever something was on his mind and making him feel awkward. And he should feel awkward, Davey thought spitefully, his eyes narrowing at nothing in particular. He received a strange look from Hunter, only realizing after the fact that he'd been shooting the poison dart glare in his direction. He couldn't care.

Their cue came, and Adam slipped out onto the stage first, the crowd erupting into a unified, glorious cry. Davey knew the drill—next out was Jade, then Hunter, and then he pasted a cordial smile on his face and stepped out as well, earning the most noise of all. He greeted his followers with a glance, another smile, as they went right into Miseria Cantare. Stepping up to the mic, he let his eyes fall closed and took it, clutching the stand like it was a lifeline, darting a nervous tongue over his lower lip and taking a breath. _Breathe_ , he told himself, _just breathe._

He didn't look at Jade as he began singing, didn't look at anything except the crowd. Their cries spurred him on, their energy kept him from sinking below the waves that threatened to drag him down and drown him. His hands were getting clammy and shaking slightly as the truth of it all sank in completely for the first time. And it soon became hard _not_ to look at Jade when he was so close beside him, when he was flitting about the stage and every so often entering Davey's line of sight as a black, out of focus blur. He saw him beside him, felt the searing heat burning through all the layers of space and clothing that separated them, as though they were pressed flush, skin to skin. And in that moment, the love burned away at the edges and melted away into something ugly, malicious, hateful. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back and squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn't see it, putting his all into the music.

It wasn't enough.

He couldn't keep his eyes shut the whole time. As usual, he found himself getting wrapped up in the audience's passion and enthusiasm, in the way the people up front sang along and pointed to the air at him like he was some sort of god, like he could absolve them and save them with words alone. If only that were the case. He whipped his hair as he turned around, accidentally coming face to face with Jade, with Adam. He chose to stare through them, hurrying over to the other side of the stage to sing to the people in the corner, to get down on his knees and fucking _scream_ until he felt like his guts were melding and churning as acid inside of him. It made him sick, the feeling burning up his throat. And with each second, it got harder to breathe, harder to continue.

Each and every lyric hurt. He was sputtering out poetry they had crafted together, words they had experienced and lived and poured over at the latest hours of the night, just sitting in the dark hotel rooms and in Davey's house, huddled together shoulder to shoulder as they discussed the album, music, their deepest thoughts and feelings. And now it was being puked out for the whole world to see.

They finished the song. Davey felt like he could breathe at least a little, until Jade began to play again—The Leaving Song. It touched something deep inside him now that he fully _understood_ it. That feeling that he'd grasped at the time of writing, it had been there but it hadn't been complete. He remembered the way Jade wouldn't look at him while they'd written it and now it made sense.

Feeling numb, he brushed his hair back and stepped up to the mic again, his voice unnaturally soft as he started to sing. His vulnerability was the crowd's now, and if they would take it away, if they would only absolve _him_... His thoughts were interrupted as Jade shifted closer, and he slid a dark gaze in his direction, jaw clenching slightly. Jade didn't dare look at him; he kept his eyes down on his fingers, but Davey knew better. He saw the hint of tension come to his shoulders, saw the way the corner of his mouth became more deeply set.

Before he could wipe it off his face, his expression turned, twisting into a snarl. It was directed at Jade—he had seen it too because he fucked up. Davey just shot another glare in his direction. Each word was carefully punctuated with emotion, all of it meant to hit Jade like a punch to the gut. And the more emotional he got, the more Jade pretended not to notice, pretended to be into what he was doing. It only made Davey clench his teeth between words, made him want to corner him backstage and hit him.

Everyone was unnaturally quiet throughout the song, as though they could feel the tension and knew better than to break it. And by the time the song was over and everyone awkwardly cheered, he was done. Done with Jade's little act, done with this whole thing—he'd made up his mind. Turning his back, he flicked a poisonous glare over his shoulder, lips pressed tightly together in a thin line. And he saw Jade swallow hard, saw him turn the opposite direction and pretend to be fiddling with his guitar. He just took a moment to breathe, to lick his dry lips and pull his trembling fingers through his hair as the others came back onstage again for The Leaving Song Part II.

He kept his distance from Jade, no longer concerned about what the fans would think or what sorts of rumors would be flying the next day. All that mattered was self preservation, getting through this without splitting the band in two. Jade must've been feeling nervous, must've been feeling the pressure, because he fucked up again—and this time it was much worse, noticeable to everyone. Davey didn't dare look at him but his jaw locked, his body tensing. And when he finally did bring his eyes up for just a split second, they spoke the scalding hot, scathing words for him— _you shouldn't let your personal life interfere with the band._

Feeling spiteful, he shot a glare in Adam's direction too for good measure, then launched into the song full-out screaming it from the get-go. His whole body trembled, tense and hunched and surging with rage. How dare Jade. How fucking _dare_ he. He had no reservations, no qualms about going and standing right in front of Adam and screaming, of staring him down with a look that would freeze hell itself over. And he saw, from the corner of his eye, how tense Jade got when he stepped up on the drum riser. _Yes, Jade,_ he silently told him, refusing to do more than slide a seething glance in his direction. _I know._

The scream he let out at the end of the song was so hard, so heartfelt and painful, that it hurt his throat and made him feel like the vocal cords were pulled too taut and would snap. But he didn't stop. He screamed again when he saw Jade going towards him, jumping up on the drum riser and no doubt locking eyes with Adam in some secret mutual exchange that 'only' they knew about. He screamed it out until he was hoarse and had to cut off, pulling the mic away from his mouth so he could pant harshly, crouched there on the floor and hunched over, shoulders shaking from the effort and the exhaustion and the pain. He just wanted to collapse there, to lie there and just _die_.

As he picked himself up off the floor to leave, he felt delirious, like he wasn't himself anymore, like he had expended all his energy through that last song and was now nothing more than an empty shell. It was a miracle he had enough sense left in him to actually smile and wave to the audience, to speak a word to them. And then he was drifting backstage, in a sick daze that left him dizzy and faint. All that seeped away and gave way to a hot, fresh rush of anger when he saw Jade and Adam stopping in the hall and whispering something to each other. He watched with tightly pressed lips as Adam clapped Jade on the shoulder and gave him that crooked, kind smile of his, the kind he gave to someone he was reassuring. They parted ways, Adam going to his dressing room and Jade turning to go to the break room.

That was when Davey took his chance because no one else was in the hall. Hurriedly, he stormed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shoving him hard against the wall and pinning him there with shaking hands. He clenched his teeth, breaths ragged and fierce, eyes flashing in black fury. Digging his nails into Jade's skin, he pressed up against him and looked down his nose at him, eyelids mostly shut and mouth twisted in that snarl again. "I saw it," he began, his heated breaths hitting Jade's face, and he swallowed audibly. "I saw you and Adam. You're a miserable little fuck, did you know that? Three fucking weeks and you're already—just...fuck you."

Jade's eyes widened, mouth opening uselessly but nothing coming out. And Davey didn't dare give him the opportunity to speak. He stole Jade's breath in a harsh, biting kiss, all teeth and punishment. He pushed his body harder against Jade's, feeling the familiar bones and muscles shift beneath his touch, feeling him quiver and his heart pound against him. He reached one hand up to grab his jaw and force his mouth to meet his own, gasping breaths between stifling kisses and shoving a knee between his legs. His breaths were coming out shaky and cut-sounding now, not in arousal but in suffering and hysteria.

"Why did you...?" he began, panting, but cut himself off with another kiss, as though it would save him and breathe life into their relationship again. He broke away with a sharp sounding smack, his demeanor harder again and that snarl still trembling on his lip. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just leave me like this. You fucking _can't._ " He tilted Jade's head up, readjusting his grip and pressing the back of his head painfully against the painted cinder block wall. He could feel Jade's pulse hammering against his hand, and he stared him down with dagger eyes as Jade's lips parted and nothing but a strained sound escaped him. That was when he realized he might be holding him too hard, and loosened his grip. But he kept him cornered with a knee to his crotch, rubbing it against it to spite him. "We didn't even talk about it. We never did." His lips were stretching back in a feral, panicked expression, his eyes morphing to something horrified and wild. He blinked back the tears. "Jade," he continued, voice softened and choked up. "Tell me this isn't what you want. Tell me this isn't the end. I love you."

Jade said nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it made Davey flash back to the night they'd last made love—no, _fucked_ , he reminded himself. Because it wasn't making love. Not when Jade didn't love him. And his throat was burning again, feeling like he'd blown it out from the strangled screams that were creeping up it as the truth shone in Jade's eyes. Sympathy. Words like _I'm sorry,_ and sheepish half-shrugs, that nonchalant little crooked grin he gave whenever he was trying to apologize or didn't know what to say.

"I love you!" he cried, reaching up his other hand to cup the other side of his face, to search his eyes with a desperate gaze. He could feel the tears swimming in his eyes, blurring his vision over. Blinking rapidly, he whispered it again and again and again, "I love you. I love you. Jade, please look at me. _I love you._ " Between each proclamation, their lips met and their teeth clacked together unpleasantly, but Davey felt like he couldn't breathe and he needed it so badly. Those tears spilled over and made his face feel damp, made his hair stick to his cheeks. And then he was breaking down and sobbing, caught between pleas and screams. " _Please_ , Jade. Don't fucking do this to me—to us. You can't just throw that away. I loved you. I'd do anything for you. What do I have to do, huh? Force you to—"

At this point, Jade took Davey's wrists in his hands, wrapping his long fingers around them and closing them with unnecessary force. Davey bit down on his lower lip, this small whimper sounding in the back of his throat at the pain, at the cold stare in Jade's eyes. "Dave, enough." He shoved him away from him—far away, until he was standing in the middle of the hall with his arms folded and closed in around himself, holding himself together. And Jade continued to stand against the wall, this look of disbelief and disgust written all over his features. "Don't you ever touch me like that again. Do you understand me? We're over. You're not allowed to do things like that, and I don't appreciate you going crazy on me and hurting me. Fuck off."

He was shaking. Even from here, Davey could see that. And now he was shaking too—he'd hurt Jade? It made him feel sick, made him look at Jade with wide eyes, his lips trembling as he formed the words. "I'm sorry..." He hugged himself tightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But are you sure? Can't we work this out?"

Shaking his head, Jade turned away. "I'm sorry, Dave. I can't." And he didn't say it, but Davey could tell by his body language; it was nothing personal, and he'd done nothing wrong up until this point. Jade just wasn't in love with him anymore.

–

_March 22, 2003_

That night was one of the longest Davey could remember. He'd been caught between this state of half awareness and half unconsciousness, lucidly dreaming. He tossed and turned and replayed the incident in the hall in his mind over and over, feeling simultaneously terrible and angry about it. How Jade had turned his back. How he'd walked away.

He was still lying in bed, staring at the wall of the hotel room and getting lost in the texture of the wallpaper, crossing his eyes and uncrossing them and watching how the images in the paper changed, when there was a loud knock on the door. The knock was followed by someone busting in and clapping their hands. Groaning, Davey rolled over onto his back and rubbed his stinging eyes, less than thrilled about facing the day.

"Time to go, Dave. We have a long day ahead of us." Smith's voice filled the room, all loud and commanding and business-like. "You have to get ready for your interview at nine. Adam's already downstairs waiting."

"Right," he mumbled, blinking harder and sitting up slowly. He felt dizzy from all the sleepless nights, and the anger soon came back, the resentment towards Adam surfacing. "Are you sure I can't do the interview with Hunter?" he almost snapped.

Smith looked at him kind of like he was crazy. "Uh, no, you can't." He came around the edge of the bed and looked down at Davey. But Davey wouldn't look at him now, knowing that what he'd said was out of line. He just rubbed his hands together and stared at them, feeling Smith's eyes boring into him. "Does this have to do with last night? I don't know what your problem is but it's not going to affect the band. You always said things like that yourself."

This time, it was Davey who said nothing, rendered incapable of speech. He was wrong, he realized, and not just about today. About everything that he'd done yesterday. Shooting Jade dirty looks, wallowing in self pity in front of everyone, forcing himself on Jade in the hall. It was too much to bear, and that numbness and anger finally broke, giving way to a different feeling. Something more hurt, something more guilty.

For a moment, Smith hung by, just watching him. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to talk, he sat down at the edge of the bed and his eyes softened just enough. "Hey, what happened last night? Seriously."

Davey was silent for a long time, just letting his fingers trace the stitches in the thin hotel bed covers. His eyes followed them because he was unable to meet Smith's gaze. The lump in his throat had grown like a cancerous tumor, and it made him feel as though he were choking. Drawing in a shaky breath, he looked away, but Smith forced him to look back by touching his arm in a sympathetic gesture, though it wasn't gentle. He rubbed his thumb over his arm in firm, comforting motions.

"There's a lot you don't know," Davey began shakily, brushing his hair from his face. He wasn't crying—he just couldn't.

"Why don't you tell me?" Smith prodded, shifting to face Davey more.

Swallowing again, Davey wove his fingers together, running his thumb over his own knuckles, the sensation distracting. "It's difficult to talk about, but I suppose I have no choice since my dirt is going to affect the band." He breathed out; it had been stupid to get involved with Jade. To fall so in love with him that it seemed like the best idea in the world to bring him into the band where they could be closer, work together, travel the world together. At the time, it had felt perfect. But now he was beginning to see where they had erred in their thinking. It was one thing to be in love, and an entirely different thing when that love became so integral to every aspect of one's life that the break-up shattered everything. "Jade and I... We weren't just friends." He shook his head, hair swaying and brow furrowing.

He gave it a moment to sink in, and just chewed on his lip ring while it did. Smith had stopped rubbing his arm, but he hadn't withdrawn his hand just yet. And Davey was just starting to feel a little anxious about his lack of response when he finally sighed heavily, finally spoke. "Can't say I'm surprised." A beat. Then: "So that's what that shit last night was about, huh?"

Nodding, Davey finally forced himself to look at Smith, to meet his eyes. "We broke up." He swallowed the lump back as it grew tighter, more painful. "Three weeks ago. But last night, well, I... He was with Adam." He looked away again.

Groaning a little, Smith shifted and drew one leg up to rest on the edge of the bed. "Well, shit." He pulled his hand back, shaking his head a little. "That sucks for so many different reasons." He looked tired now; Davey could see the exhaustion written in the shadows and lines over his face. "What are we going to do if _they_..." He stopped himself, starting over. "I mean, shit. It's not Adam's fault, but it's best not to date someone in the band. You know?"

"I know that now," Davey said softly, frowning and staring down at the comforter. "I just didn't think..."

"Yeah, I get it," Smith interrupted, reaching to touch his arm again. This time, it was to pat it. His eyes were too vibrant and too serious, and they forced Davey to look up into them. "Look, I know this sucks, but you have to get past that. Last night was almost a disaster and I don't want that to happen today." He paused to let it sink in, a slight frown mirroring itself on his forehead. "Adam didn't do anything wrong. We had our suspicions but he didn't know. You can't fucking blame it on anyone. These things happen." He sighed a little. "And don't blame it on Jade either. I know how you can get—but it's not good for you or him or... _anyone_. He's allowed to have feelings, and he can't help it if they changed. I mean, hell, he did the right thing by breaking it off with you first."

"But how do we know he broke it off with me first?" Davey protested, fists and teeth clenching. "What if he was going around behind my back and—"

"Stop it right now." Smith shot him a look. "You know Jade better than that. He's not like that at all. Yeah, it feels shitty and it hurts, but you got to let it go. You're making yourself sick and Jade feels bad enough."

Davey flicked a nervous tongue out over his lower lip. "You...knew?"

"He's my brother. I knew he felt really fuckin' bad about something. But what was he supposed to do?" Smith shrugged. "He did the best thing for both of you. When something's over, it's best to end it as soon as possible."

Again, Davey looked down at his hands, at how his fingers were laced together. He felt empty, numb. He had to admit that Smith was right. "Yeah. I know."

"It's not like he doesn't love you. Hell, we all love you—not to get too sappy." Smith laughed a little, a soft grin coming to his face. "It's not the end of the world or anything. You'll be just fine, and you'll find someone else. I think this is all for the best anyway." He patted Davey's shoulder. "So what do you say you stop moping and get out of bed, and we'll go have some breakfast with Adam, eh?"

The tiniest hint of a smile flickered on Davey's lips, and he nodded weakly. "Okay," he agreed.

Smith returned his smile and slid off the edge of the bed, straightening up and stretching. "Awesome. See you in a few minutes." He headed for the door, then stopped and turned around to look over his shoulder, pretending to be stern. "And if I don't see your ass in five minutes, I'm coming back up here and dragging you down." With that, he grinned and threw the door open, leaving the room and letting the door fall shut loudly.

 

Davey only sat there for a moment longer, alone in the dim hotel room, looking down at the comforter. Finally, he forced himself to get up and go into the bathroom to piss and wash his face. It wasn't going to be easy, but Smith was right—he would survive. And just knowing that Jade still did care about him was comforting. If that was all he got from him, then it'd just have to be enough. He finished washing up and shaving, then threw on some clothes, and left the hotel room to meet Smith and Adam.


End file.
